


Flavor

by WaryJMS



Category: Supernatural
Genre: High School AU, M/M, bookworm!sam, punk!gabriel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-18 15:49:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2353910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaryJMS/pseuds/WaryJMS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel finds a reason to be excited about school. Unexpectedly, it’s not the snack machine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flavor

**Author's Note:**

> This request was PERFECT. I had so much fun with this- I litterally couldn’t wait to get home and work on it, I was so excited I, ehrm, wrote this during my Physics class. *coughs* The problem is- in that moment I’d just had a beautiful philosophy lesson, so this is 483% influenced by it. I just couldn’t help myself.  
> Also, credits for the Punk!Gabe and Bookworm!Sam ideas to these fantastic artists. I love those fanarts sooo much and I just had to write about them someday. *blushes*  
> English is not my mother tongue, so I’m sorry for any eventual mistake (and for this gigantic note, mind me). Enjoy! (◡‿◡✿)

 

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«Therefore we must assume that, given what Orphism supporters thought, our souls are what of divine our individuals have kept, and this entities have fallen from their stable condition of heavenly perfection into physical vessels because of an original fault we need to redeem to finally free ourself from the mortal prison our bodies are».  
From the bottom of the class, nonchalantly laid against the back of his chair, his desk bare of notebooks, pens or any other object useful for the lesson, Gabriel Novak sighed, gaining the surly looks of the students sat around him, but not making enough sound to be noticed by the annoyingly talking teacher. He looked at the clock on the wall, his eyes making a only slight and quick movement in fear of being noticed, but the professor was drowned deep into his monologue, and he didn't even notice Gabriel's light taps of nuisance that would have, instead, drawn any other teacher to craziness. _When the hell will this end?,_ Gabriel asked to himself, and he let himself slip further into his chair.   
«So», the teacher voice woke him up, finally talking about something interesting. _About time_. «If you don't have any question, I'll let you-».  
«Professor», a tentative voice called, and Gabriel instantly rose his eyes from the desk to find out who'd dared to prolounge the lesson for any longer than it already had. Every other student in the room did the same, the sound of rustling and of backpacks being filled with books suddenly stopping, and an embarassing silence filled the class, making Gabriel's attempts to find the kid that had talked even harder.  
«Ah, yes, Sam», the teacher said, gesturing something at him. «Please, stand up», he indulged when the boy didn't understand, and Gabriel chuckled, watching the nervous teen rising from his chair in evident discomfort, and he gladly took advantage of his stuttering to take a good look at his trembling figure. Sam – Winchester, if his memory wasn't wrong – was wearing a beige sleeveless sweater, of good facture, well worn over a blue shirt whose hem he was now fidgetting with. Gabriel couldn't see it from his position, as Sam's desk was in the opposite corner from his, and therefore the unknown guy had his back turned to him, but on his sweater, right under his left shoulder, Sam had also pinned a button from some sort of bookworm club, just similar to the ones Gabe had fixed on his leather jacket.   
Sam finally regained his composure and started talking, at first still stuttering, but then becoming quickly more confident as the words slipped from his lips. «If-if we link this with, uh, Christian rational theology, and if we admit that what the Orphism supporters called 'The Original Fault' is, in fact, “The Original Sin”, which was eating the Apple and deciding to longe for knowledge- that would mean that knowledge, which they consider to be the only way for salvation, is the solution and the cause to our problems itself».  
Silence grew heavier for a moment, only to be broken by the gibberish mutterings of the students all around the nervous boy. Gabriel, suddenly loosing his annoyance and becoming interested, straightened up, laying his elbows on the table and unconsciously bringing his index and his thumb to rest on his chin. _Kid's not only nervous and geeky, eh?,_ he thought, and his mind started racing through the idea that had just been set in his mind. It took Gabriel a couple of minutes, though, to realize that he hadn't been thinking of the ph ilosophical reasoning at all, but that his line of thoughts had, somehow, been undeniably deviated to a whole different subject. Gabriel shook his head, suddenly aware that his eyes had been fixed on Sam Winchester's figure for at least the last five minutes, and he quickly looked away, glad he'd chosen a desk placed in the very bottom of the room. He cleared his throat, reluctantly acknowledging he'd missed the teacher's reply to Sam's reflection, but he pleasantly took in the sound of the bell finally ringing and he at last rose from his chair. «Please, study from page fourty-three to sixty-five and--», he barely heard the professor stutter through the chaos of packing students, but he was out of the class too soon to hear the rest of it. He walked away, a hand running through his golden hair, and he surprisedly took in the fact that his mind had nothing better to think about than Sam Winchester's creamy sweater.

  


Gabriel quickly noticed he and Sam had plently of classes in common, and as days and weeks passed by he started noticing things he'd never quite paid attention to before that particular philosophy lesson. He'd, somehow, managed to get to see him almost every day in a lesson or two, and if he hadn't been too keen to find more about the misterious and geeky Sam Winchester, he probably would have laughed over how surprisingly coincidental the whole situation was, as if destiny or whatever you'd call it had been trying desperatly to point him something out. The first thing he noticed, however, was the fact that, despite Sam's tendency to always take a desk near to the teacher's – which was quite unnerving, since Gabriel preferred to withdraw into the farthest corners of the class, and from that point he couldn't really see anything about Sam if not his perfectly combed hair. Not that he was unglad of the sight, of course. -, the kid never actually took the floor in any other of the classes they had together, preferring to please Gabriel's ears exclusively and only during those so admired philosophy lessons. Which had became, suddenly, one of the few reasons Gabe hadn't still given up on the subject, but this was a completly different matter.  
The second thing he'd noticed was the fact that, while he quite often tended to change the buttons he kept on his jacket, spoiling the leather with the pin, Sam's only badge was the one he'd worn on that particular day, the one of the bookworm club. Seeing it so often on Sam's sweaters, Gabriel started asking himself whether he had one pinned to every single article of clothing of his or if he somehow just had the power to never forget to bring the button with him. The answers he gave himself were never satisfying enough.   
The third and last thing of Sam's that caught Gabriel's attention, though, wasn't linked to lessons or school clubs, but to something slightly out of the collective school ensable: Sam didn't talk to anyone, except the philosophy teacher. Of course, Gabriel had never followed him – okay, maybe he had, but just one time. Or a couple. Or more. But still fewer times than a stalker would. Right? -, so he couldn't have known, but he had, in general, hardly noticed him talking with anyone.Though he had his company of friends to spend lunch breaks with, in fact, he always preferred to eat or read instead of talking to them, quietly responding to their question when something was asked, but never ever taking the initiative. Therefore, when in a snowy Monday morning the windy December temperature caused Sam's bus to break, forcing him to reach school on his feet, Gabriel was surprised to see him take a seat beside him instead of occupying his usual desk.   
«Wind of change?», he muttered, laying his head against his right hand. Sam's head tilted up, curiosity shining in his eyes, as if he hadn't excpected Gabriel to even address him. «Uh», he stuttered, and Gabriel smiled in the memory of the fist time he'd heard him so nervous. «Yes. Well, this desk is close to the radiator», he said and he pointed to the object, shrugging the cold off of his shoulders. Gabriel didn't reply, watching him from under his lashes, not bothering to stop staring at him and gladly taking in the vision of the snow melting in his hair. Sam blushed. «Have I got, erhm, something on my face?».   
«A cute smile. Has anyone ever told you that?», Gabriel nonchalantly said, and he took advantage of Sam's shock to take a couple of lollipops out of his school bag. «Want one?», he asked, smirking to Sam's embarassment and trying not to think about how unbearably cute his reddened face was. _It's not like there is any coming back_ anyway, Gabe. You're already done.   
«I-I j-just», Sam babbled, and Gabriel kept staring at him, lollipops still held out. «I- thank you. But, uh, I- I'm not gay».  
Gabriel frowned. «So what? You can't eat lollipops?».  
«No, I mean- about, about the thing you said».  
«So, no lollipop?».  
«Uhm, no, thanks».  
Gabriel shrugged. «No bad», he said, and he popped both of them into his mouth. For a moment they were silent, the other students' voices covering the teacher's while he tried to start the lesson, then Sam spoke again, pretending to fetch something in his bag to slip away from Gabriel's curious eyes. «I really don't like candy».  
Gabriel suddenly spit one of the heart-shaped lollipops out of his mouth, teathrically holdingonto the desk and pretending to fall off his chair. « _My heart!_ What am I hearing?», he said, and he  graspedfor his chest with a hand. «Sugar, sugar, that we'll have to change».  
Sam, that had surprisingly let out a muffled chuckle at Gabriel's little play, tilted his head and shyly smiled to him. «What makes you think I'll let you change my tastes?».  
«Because changing, my dear», Gabriel muttered, sinking into the back of his chair and lacing his fingers behind his head, «leads you to new knowledge. And wasn't knowledge the only way to reach salvation?».

  


There had been no trace of Sam Winchester on Tuesday, when the cold had made the snow freeze, and Gabriel had spent the day with such a black face the plethora of students in the hallway had opened to his passage as the Red Sea would have done to Moses. On Wednesday, his Philosophy class had been tremendously silent, not a single remark or reflection being done by any of the students, and Gabriel had spent the hour staring at the clock and eating skittles. On Thursday, when he'd already fallen four times on the iced road, Gabriel started to meditate on the possibility that Sam Winchester hated him so much he'd been willing to give up on his entire and perfect school career just to get the hell away from _the strange and dark kid_ _from_ _Ph_ _i_ _losophy._ Therefore, when he'd quickly crossed the corridor to reach his locker, he'd been more than glad to find Sam plunged in his own, a gigantic red scarf wrapped around his long neck, and he'd instantly forgotten about whatever book he was originally willing to retrieve.   
«I'll never understand how such a hot boy managed to get a cold», he said with nonchalance, popping three pink starbursts in his mouth, all at once.   
Sam immediatly got his head out of his locker, gasping and flinching, looking at him as if he'd just seen a ghost, and Gabriel couldn't help but internally squirming at the ridiculousness of his face, half covered by the scarf and half red as a tomato. Sam stuttered something, the only word managing to successfully come out of his mouth being a difficultly spelled “God”, but Gabriel gave him no time to process what had just happened.«No, but you were close», he said, and he winked to him. «Gabriel. Novak», he added, offering him his right hand without bothering to rise from the locker where he'd laid on his shoulder. «Since we had had no time for presentations, on Monday».  
Sam stared at him, mouth still slightly open in surprise; and the funny thing was that, as Gabriel had just reflected on how adorably ridiculous Sam looked, the above-mentioned boy started to make the same observation on him in return - without the 'being adorable' part, if you'd asked him, but, now, would you consider that trustworthy? Of course not. - and Gabriel surely noticed it. He was laying, as said before, on a badly-kept locker, a cocky smirk splayed on his face, somehow managing not to fade from his lips even while he crunched down onto his candy. He was wearing his usual leather jacket, the collar of his black tee barely noticeable under it, and Sam desperatly tried to find a logical reason why he, who always wore warm sweathers and had always been careful to wash his hands every once in a while, had been proner to get a cold than a leather jacket covered kid had been. Then his eyes fell onto the pink bubble Gabriel had unexpectedly managed to blow out of the candy in his mouth, and Sam couldn't help but giggle. _Such a rebel black-wearing candy_ lover.  
«I, uh», Sam muttered, but he lost his train of thought when his eyes fell on the buttons Gabriel had pinned on his jacket that morning. «Oh», he mumbled, and a big smile finally shone on his face when the teen noticed Gabriel's bookworm club matching his own. «I- I didn't think you were the type».  
Gabriel smirked, finally straightening up, and he started slowly walking across the corridor, glad to notice Sam immediatly following him. «The type that's into books, you mean?».  
«I was quite reluctant about philosophy too, to be honest».  
Gabriel took in a deep breath, but the slight smirk didn't leave his lips. «You're actually half-right about that. I can't stand those philosophy lessons. I've hated them since I've first put feet in the class».  
Sam frowned. «What made you stay?».   
«The fact, kiddo», Gabriel said, turning his back to directly gaze at Sam's figure, walking backwards but somehow managing to dodge every single student Sam would have surely stumbled into. «Is that I love philosophy, but I hate theory. I love to discuss, but everybody in that damn class seems to prefer shutting their cakeholes up when the teacher asks for opinions instead of making a goddamn effort to wake up that thingy they dare to call a brain».  
Sam tilted his head, quickening his steps and desperatly trying to reach for Gabriel – really, how did that kid manage to be so quick when he was at least half a foot shorter than him? -, but he stumbled into someone and his books accidentally slipped from his arms. He rushed towards them, immediatly longing to pick his notes up before the uncaring students stepped onto them, but as soon as he'd crutched to the floor to collect his stuff, he found Gabriel's hand on his eye-level, and the kid had already picked up all of his stuff. Sam rose his head, glancing at the standing figure and muttering his thanks, blushing and gladly accepting his books and the hand Gabe had offered him to help him rise from the ground.   
«By the way, bucko», Gabriel continued, taking advance of Sam's sudden lack of movement to slowly back away from him, still walking backwards, «I stayed just because of that ridiculous and geeky kid. The one who actually has a little grey matter left». He winked and then, in a blink, Sam lost him in the crowd.  
  
«Have you ever even read a real book in your life?», Sam sprouted between giggles, tears starting to form at the corner of his eyes. Gabriel cocked his head to the right, quickly glancing around him and showing his palm in a sign of faked sincerity. «Y-yeees! Of course. Me 'n books? Ha, bffs. Obviously. Loads of them. My only addiction. Ask my dad».   
Sam burst out laughing again, leaning his back onto the arm of the couch they were currently sat on and holding his belly. «You are- so awful», he somehow managed to say, and he playfully kicked him with his foot when he unwrapped what should have been the eleventh or twelfth Mars of the day.  
«Render unto Sam the things that are Sam's, and unto Gabriel all the candy in the world. Fin», he replied, suddenly leaning onto Sam's body, the bar of chocolate falling, forgotten, on the dark carpet of his living room. He seductively smirked, wiggling his eyebrows, and letting his lips gingerly stroke Sam's.  
«I meant it, you know», Sam whispered, stopping to give Gabriel a little kiss. «The day we met, I mean. I'm not gay. I'm bi».  
«Shut up. I'm such a pan you could cook on me». Sam giggled, rolling Gabriel so he now was under him, and his mouth ventured down to his neck, leaving little kisses he knew would have made Gabriel squirm. «N-no», he giggled, «It tickles! S-stop, ple-please». Sam smiled, lacing his fingers with his boyfriend's locks and kissing him again. And something, deep in his mind, acknowledged the fact that, at the end, Gabriel had managed to make him like the flavor of candy.   
  



End file.
